


we all look so perfect as we all fall down

by MinilocIsland



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Established Relationship, Even dresses up as a goth punker, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Isak snorts at him, M/M, Mirror Sex, Semi-Public Sex, and that's about it, but secretly likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22499686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinilocIsland/pseuds/MinilocIsland
Summary: “What if I’d been a goth back when we met? In a black leather jacket and purple hair and dark lipstick. Would you still have fallen in love with me?”The thought is so absurd that Isak falls quiet, mouth agape while Even giggles at him, head tilted to the side.“You’d so have liked it,” Even mumbles against his neck, voice bubbling with delight. “Your goth punker boyfriend in lace gloves and eyeliner. That’d be me.”(It didn't cross Isak's mind that Even might actually go through with dressing up as exactly that for Eva's costume party. Or that he'd like his boyfriend's new look just this much.)
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Comments: 46
Kudos: 202





	we all look so perfect as we all fall down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ghostcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostcat/gifts).



> Because sometimes, if you won't shut up about the fic you want, someone will finally cave and write it for you. SOMETIMES.  
> Here you go, babe, and I hope it's somewhat what you had in mind ;)
> 
> Title from The Cure's Pornography, because I mean, hey.
> 
> A huge thanks to my wifie [Treehouse](https://modestytreehouse.tumblr.com) for reading it through for me <3  
> Hope you'll all enjoy!

The first thing Isak does when he opens the invitation is to frown. 

_Party High School Style._

Not that he has anything against costume parties in particular, and sure, having a party in Eva’s house again after all this time would be fun, but – well. 

“I didn’t have a _style_ in high school.” 

He didn’t – unless you’d count jeans, hoodie and snapback as one. Not like the dance chicks in their gym wear, or the occasional punkers. Or the fucking _Penetrators._

“I don’t think it means you have to dress the way _you_ did in high school,” Even says from over Isak’s shoulder, looking down into his phone. “Just pick any style.”

“What style,” Isak huffs. Dressing up, party planning, details – such things are more Even’s brand. Not his.

“Isn’t there anything you wish you’d have dared to dress up as back then?” Even smiles against his jaw before he chuckles into his ear, “This is your chance to finally know what it had been like to be a kawaii girl. Or a goth.”

“A goth. Ha.” Isak rolls his eyes at his phone before he turns his face to kiss Even. “I bet _you_ would have wanted to be a goth.”

Even’s eyes glitter before he nibbles at Isak’s lips with sharp teeth. “What if I’d been a goth back when we met? In a black leather jacket and purple hair and dark lipstick. Would you still have fallen in love with me?”

The thought is so absurd that Isak falls quiet, mouth agape while Even giggles at him, head tilted to the side.

“You’d _so_ have liked it,” Even mumbles against his neck, voice bubbling with delight. “Your goth punker boyfriend in lace gloves and eyeliner. That’d be me.”

“Nerd,” is the only thing Isak manages before he stands up and wrestles Even down to the floor to shut him up. 

Never mind the costume. He’ll think of something later.

* * *

Eva’s mother’s house looks just the same as Isak remembers it.

The same pictures of Eva from primary school, from middle school, from graduation. The same large grey sofa, the terrace outside the big windows just as tidy.

More and more guests are trickling in through the door, and for a second it’s almost as if they’re back in high school – people lounging against the walls, on the sofas, a small dance floor starting to form in the middle of the living room.

He’s not as dressed up as some of the people in here – nothing like the complete Spice Girls gang forming in the middle of the dance floor – but he’s pretty content with his old football outfit. Admittedly, it’s a little tighter than he remembered it to be – especially over his chest and thighs – but at least he _did_ dress up. Also, he has a feeling Even might like it. 

If he’s ever going to get here, that is.

Not for the first time tonight, he glances over to the door. Even had to work until seven, and then he’d go over to Yousef’s to get changed since it’s on the way, but now it’s nearing nine and Even _still_ isn’t here.

“Want another beer?” Eva’s voice floats in from the left as she puts her hand on his shoulder. 

“Yeah.” He pushes himself up from the sofa with one hand, his near-empty bottle in the other. “I’ll come with you.”

“Your outfit is more middle school to me,” Eva smiles as they walk through the hallway together, “but okay. I’ll take it.”

“I _did_ play football in high school.” Isak huffs, and watches her black ballerina dress tip up and down as she steps over the shoes strewn over the floor. “You look great, though.”

“Thanks. I know.” She winks as she turns the corner to the kitchen. “What’s Even gonna be, anyway?”

“I don’t know. We agreed to surprise each other." Isak shrugs. "He should be here any minute, I guess.”

He looks down at his phone again, only to see the _On my way <3 _Even sent half an hour ago, a tug of impatience in his chest.

Eva moves around her mother’s kitchen with the same ease as always, fishing out two beers from the bottom of the floor-to-almost-ceiling fridge.

“Here,” she says, smiling at him before her gaze floats up over his shoulder, eyes almost comically widening as she spots something – or someone – behind him. “Oh my god.”

Isak turns, almost not recognizing the man standing in the doorway at first.

It’s Even, but it’s also – not. 

Pale purplish hair hangs down on both sides of his face, over the shoulders of a black leather jacket. Legs clad in dark, skinny jeans, making them look even longer and skinnier than normal, and on his feet is a pair of black leather boots. His face is pale, smooth from some kind of makeup, and the heavy eyeliner he’s wearing makes his usually intense stare even more piercing. On one of his hands is dressed in a cerise lace glove, the other one picking at the seam of his jacket, black nail polish like dark dots against the pale skin.

He fucking _did_ it. 

And he looks… Isak doesn’t know what he looks like. So absolutely ridiculous that Isak wants to laugh, and at the same time – this look sort of… _suits_ him. His long, lean body, his sharp jaw and chiseled face. 

It’s hilarious and stupid and elegant all at once, and kind of impossible for Isak to wrap his head around.

“What the fuck,” Isak manages, and Eva laughs behind him, a short, airy laugh echoing of equal parts disbelief and delight.

Even’s eyes are fixed on Isak’s as the corners of his mouth lift up in a very non-gothy smile. “Hello.”

“Holy shit, Even,” Eva says, striding up to Even and pulling him down into a hug. “You look _amazing.”_

“Thanks.” Even coal-lined eyes glitter at Isak over her shoulder as he hugs her back. “Cool party.”

“I know. Just like old times,“ Eva says. “Better get back out there to make sure no one takes the TV with them.” 

She winks at Isak and casts another appreciative look at Even before she floats away into the living room again.

“Hi,” Even says as he walks up to Isak, the tip of his tongue playing behind his teeth. “Sorry I’m late. Had to fix my outfit.”

“I can’t believe you,” Isak says, still a little dazed and unsure how to feel about this… being that just has appeared before him. “You fucking did it.”

“Of course I did.” Even places a swift kiss on his lips and cocks his head to the side, eyes sparkling with delight. “Because I knew you’d like it.”

“Fuck off. I don’t _like_ it, like it.” Isak leans up to kiss him back. “But you _do_ look pretty awesome.”

“So do you.” Even mumbles against his lips, sliding his hands down Isak’s back and down to his hip, squeezing it lightly through the silky fabric of the football shorts. _“I_ like _your_ outfit.”

Isak pinches his upper arm, the black leather jacket weirdly thick and stiff under his fingers, before he kisses Even firmly on the mouth and takes a step back. These shorts don’t hide _that_ much, after all.

“I knew you would,” he says, raising his eyebrows at Even before he takes his hand. “Let’s go find the others. Magnus is gonna _die_ when he sees you.”

* * *

A few hours later, Isak sits on the sofa with Jonas, resting his legs and watching Even who stands by the far wall, talking to Yousef and Mahdi and some guy Isak thinks he bought weed from at some point in first grade. 

From time to time, Even’s gaze flitters over to him, and when he smiles and raises his eyebrows Isak can feel his stomach jump a little. 

He’d said he didn’t _like_ Even’s outfit – but now that he’s starting to get used to it, he’s not so sure anymore.

That hair still looks kinda ridiculous, but like this, from a distance, the contrast between it and Even’s dark clothing is more striking. He’s discarded the leather jacket, wearing only the skinny black jeans and a black, slightly washed out t-shirt. Its collar hangs a little loose, Even’s throat long and pale, and when he laughs at something Yousef says and throws his head back his jaw looks even sharper with all that makeup on. As he lifts his bottle of beer to drink, Isak can see the black of his nails against the green bottle, and –

It isn’t a secret that he’s always had a thing for Even’s hands, and that nail polish kind of underlines how long his fingers are. Reminds Isak of all the things those fingers can do.

 _Fuck._

He adjusts his football shirt across his lap. Turns to Jonas on his other side for some kind of distraction, only to find him deep in conversation with some girl he thinks was in their German class in first grade. Magnus is nowhere to be seen, nor is any of the girls, and if he goes to talk to Even now he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep a civil appearance. 

Especially not in these thin shorts.

He bites his lip, considering his options, and settles for sneaking off to the basement to change into his normal clothes instead. At least then he might be able to stand next to Even without looking _completely_ indecent.

But, of course, as he’s passed Eva’s bedroom-turned-guest room and entered the adjacent bath, there’s someone coming down the stairs behind him. Before he’s even reached his bag standing by the tub, there’s two long arms wrapping around him from behind, a strand of purple hair falling down on his face as Even leans forward to kiss his cheek.

“Hey,” Even’s voice is low in his ear. “You good?”

“Mm.” He turns his head. “Just went down here to change.”

“Change?” Even’s hand picks at the hem of his football shirt. “Why?”

“Nah. Just a bit cold.” He shrugs, turning in Even’s arms. He’s not about to give Even the satisfaction of knowing how much Isak has started to like _like_ his look. Not yet. “Not everyone wears as many layers as you do, you know.”

“True.” Even grins and cocks his head to the side. “Are you having fun?”

“I am. And you?”

“Mm. It’s been great.” Even kisses him swiftly before he places his hand on Isak’s hip and squeezes it. Just like he did in the kitchen earlier, only a little firmer, letting his hand linger for a few seconds longer. “Been a little distracted by you in these clothes, though.”

Isak can’t help but smile to himself – he’s fully aware of Even’s weakness for him in this outfit. Knows that Even likes how they’re thin and a little silky, how they make Isak’s shoulders and hips jut out a little and look more defined. 

He hasn’t worn them for a while, however – lately, it’s been difficult to assemble a full team when everyone’s been working so much, and more often he’s gone to the gym by himself instead. 

Which shows in how these shorts stretch a little tighter over his thighs than they used to do – and maybe Isak wasn’t playing it completely fair when choosing this outfit, considering that Even has another not-so-secret thing for his legs, and his thighs especially.

“Is that so?” Isak smiles on his lips. “Too bad I’m about to change out of them then.”

“I think you should keep them on, though.” Even’s hands have ended up on the small of Isak’s back, and one of them travels down over Isak’s ass and the back of his thigh, kneading it lightly. “Or not.”

Even’s eyeliner has become a little smudged during the night, making his eyes look darker, his stare more intense, and fuck, it does things to Isak having Even look at him like that. To have Even _look_ like that, period. Even if that wig is borderline preposterous, his dark eyes and defined cheekbones make him look a bit decisive, more serious, and that definitely does _not_ help with the situation in Isak’s pants. 

He can’t resist pressing himself against Even. Just a little. Let himself feel how Even’s getting a little hard in his jeans as well, just from seeing him in these clothes.

“Let’s go home,” Even says, suddenly, breath hot on Isak’s lips.

“Yeah.” Isak agrees, pushing back against Even’s hand, letting it slide in under the legs of his shorts. “Just – let me change first, okay? I can’t go up there and say goodbye to everyone in – this.”

He gestures down to his crotch, shorts stretching over the now very visible bulge on his front, and Even chuckles before he releases his grip on Isak’s thigh. He doesn’t say anything though, just leans against the wall and watches as Isak pulls his t-shirt over his head and drops it on the floor.

It makes the pulse quicken in Isak’s stomach a little – having Even watching him like this in silence feels both exhilarating and kind of tense. Especially when Even isn’t really looking like himself, but a little different. Foreign.

In the corner of his eye, he can see Even peel the lace glove off, then lift the purple wig off his head and drop it on top of Isak's bag, running his hand through his flattened hair and – fuck. 

Scratch the _ridiculous_ part of his look. 

Without that wig, there’s suddenly nothing left of the weirdness – only those cheekbones underlined by the make-up, the eyeliner framing his eyes.

Even just looks – fuck, he looks _hot._

Isak bites his lip and swallows against the beating of his pulse high in his chest, tries to focus on something else than the outline of Even’s collarbones under the worn-out black t-shirt, the pale pink of his slightly swollen lips. Takes a deep breath before he looks to the bag on the floor for his regular clothes.

Before he’s had time to bend down and pick anything up, however, Even’s hands are on his hips, nudging him to turn around.

“Look,” Even says in a low voice, nodding with his eyes fixed on something behind Isak’s shoulder. 

Isak turns, and – okay. 

The mirror above the sink has been replaced since his high school days, no longer the small circular one he remembers from when Eva lived down here, but a large one, reaching all the way from the sink and up to the lamp above it. Much taller than the one Even and him have in their bathroom at home. Tall enough to see his whole upper body, his hips and the upper part of his thighs.

And not that Isak doesn’t look at himself in their mirror on the daily, but he doesn’t usually stop to observe himself longer than for a few seconds. Usually just checks that his hair is somewhat flat and that he doesn’t have toothpaste all over his face.

Doesn’t usually stand on _display_ like this, with Even’s chin rested on his shoulder, hands on Isak’s hips, eyes dark and heated in the warm light of the lamp. His gaze travels over Isak’s shirtless upper body, his chest, the strand of hair running from his navel and into his tented shorts. 

“Fuck,” Even says again, the vibrations of his voice traveling through Isak’s neck and down his spine, and Isak leans his head back on Even’s shoulder, lets Even run his hands up and down his sides. “You're so fucking hot, Isak.” 

And then, Even moves his hands forward, splaying them out on top of Isak's stomach, and Isak has to swallow. 

It looks just how he’d hoped it would. 

Nails jet black against his skin, long fingers spreading out, and over his shoulder Isak can see how Even’s gaze is fixed on his own fingers as well. How his eyes follow the movements of his hands, one finger dipping into Isak’s belly button while the other hand slides up to his chest. 

When Even’s thumb and forefinger find Isak’s nipple and pinch it lightly, Isak can feel his legs turn a little weak. It just looks so _good_ – the black of Even’s nails against the light brown skin, the pads of his fingers whitening a little as he squeezes it. He bites his lip from the sharp but pleasurable sting of it, from how Even’s breathing turns heavier in his ear.

He pushes back against Even, his own pulse quickening as he feels how hard Even is. Just from seeing and touching Isak like this.

Suddenly, there’s a thud on the floor somewhere above, and just as suddenly Isak is reminded of that they’re actually in somebody else’s _house._

For a moment, he can feel himself stiffen up a little under Even’s hands – they’ve kinda grown out of sneaking away to the bathroom during parties to have sex – but. 

Fuck it. He’s not gonna make it into his pants and out of here anytime soon, anyway.

Not with Even standing behind him like this, mouth slightly open, eyes wild and hungry, front plastered to Isak’s back and breath tickling the side of his neck.

He lifts his arm up over his head, grabs on to Even’s hair and twists his face to the side. Not far enough for Isak to be able to kiss him on the mouth, but enough to put his teeth around the lobe of Even’s ear and whisper “Lock the door.”

“Fuck,” Even says but complies, reaches out to the side and turns the lock, lips attached to Isak’s neck. “Isak –”

Isak holds his breath as Even puts his hand back on his waist. Watches as Even runs it up and down his side, black nails running across his ribs and down under them hem of his shorts.

Even’s other hand moves across his chest, from one nipple to the other and then to his shoulder, a long finger sliding across his collarbone and into the dip of his throat. Down along his sternum and the arch of his ribs, as if Even can’t decide where he wants to touch Isak the most. As if he wants to try out how his hands look on every part of Isak, as if he can’t look his fill.

It makes Isak squirm a little, makes him feel observed and a tiny bit self-conscious in a way he normally isn’t – but at the same time he can’t help but like it. Revel in how it makes him feel wanted, desired, _hot._

Not that Even doesn’t make him feel like that every day; Isak’s just not used to… _seeing_ it like this.

He holds on to Even’s hair, watches Even’s fingertips brush his nipple and then move to his armpit, tickling the soft brown hairs there.

Leans his head back as Even pulls at the football shorts and slides them down, lifting the waistband over his hard-on. Carefully, not touching it with his fingers, but the elastic brushes against the head, and it sends tingles into Isak’s stomach and up along his spine. 

“I’ve been wanting to touch your legs all night,” Even mumbles into his ear, pulling the shorts down mid-way and sliding his palm over his hip, his groin, the front of his thighs. “These shorts, Isak, fuck –”

Isak smiles to himself – hearing Even’s voice turning wet and dark like this from seeing him half-naked turns him on, too. Makes him buck his hips up and press himself against Even’s hand so that it slides in between his legs. 

“Fuck, baby.” Even’s mouth is warm against his ear, teeth sharp on his skin, and Isak leans his head to the side to give him more room.

Lets Even press his hand up behind Isak’s balls so that his thumb rests at the base of his cock. Hears Even sigh into his ear as he slowly slides his other hand down Isak’s stomach, black nails spread out like the edge of a fan on his skin. 

Holds his breath as Even’s index finger traces his happy trail from the navel and down.

He glances up at Even’s face in the mirror, sees how his stare is fixed on his own hands, on Isak’s crotch, on his now fully hard cock standing up against his stomach. Eyes coal black with only a hint of blue, cheek bones sharp and shadowed, and Isak presses back against Even, makes him sigh against Isak’s jaw.

His pulse beats hard in his ears when Even’s fingers skate the line of his groin, down to the coarse tuft of hair around his balls and then, finally, up along the shaft of his cock. Only a loose grip, not enough to give Isak any real relief, but – fuck.

It looks so – _different_ like this. 

Foreign. Black nails like they’re cut out of paper, almost like it’s someone else’s hand.

The tendons on the back of Even’s hand tense up as he moves his thumb over the head, small zings running up through Isak's belly and to the small of his back. He squeezes his legs together, trapping Even’s other hand between them, making Even tighten the grip on his cock, press closer and nibble at his jaw.

“I wanna fuck your thighs so bad, baby.” Even’s voice sounds low, almost disjointed, words raspy against Isak’s cheek. 

Isak can feel something flare up deep inside the pit of his stomach at Even's words – it isn’t something they do very often, but the thought of Even in this strange, intense look, just taking his pleasure out of Isak’s body like that, standing in front of a mirror in someone else's house, people walking around above them, not having the slightest idea –

It would be perfect.

“You can do that,” Isak whispers, pulling a little at Even’s hair with the hand poised behind his head. “Please. I want you to.”

“Mm.” Even smiles against his neck and gives the inside of Isak’s thigh a light squeeze before he lets go. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” 

Tingles of anticipation run up Isak’s spine and down the back of his legs as he leans his hands on the sink and watches Even straighten up behind him. The light on Even’s face dims as he takes a step back, making the shadows on it fall differently, and for a quick second that foreign feeling runs through Isak again. As if Even isn’t Even, but some stranger he just met at a party who’s going to fuck him over the sink, and suddenly Isak’s mouth is all dry, pulse beating so hard in his crotch that he has to rest all of his weight on his hands and breathe deeply through his mouth. In and out.

Not that he’d actually _want_ that – but the fantasy of it, the sound of Even opening his pants behind him, the dark stare he gives Isak over his shoulder – it makes Isak lick his lips and meet Even’s eyes in the mirror through his lashes, makes him lift his ass up and open his mouth.

“Fuck Isak,” Even says in a wet, hoarse voice, and takes a step forward to press his cock against Isak’s crack. Squeezes Isak’s hip hard, leans over him and opens the cabinet to the left of the sink.

In the mirror, Isak sees him lift out a bottle of some kind of oil, bite his lip and lift his eyebrows. 

“This should work,” Even whispers in his ear, before he pours some oil on his hand and slides it in between Isak’s thighs from behind. Takes care to slowly rub the oil into the skin on Isak’s inner thighs, behind his balls, along the juncture of his groin and up his crack. Presses his fingertips against his hole as he passes it, and the promise of it makes something tug hard at the pit of his stomach and his toes curl.

He stands up as Even takes his hand away, leans back and lets Even hold him with an arm across his chest. Closes his legs as he feels the tip of Even’s cock nudge against his crack, the feel of it sliding down and forward between his legs just as curious as exhilarating. 

“Shit,” Even sighs in his ear as he pulls back, then pushes forward again. “You feel so good like this, fuck –”

The arm across Isak’s chest holds on tighter, Even’s fingers finding his nipple again and pinching it, and Isak sighs at the pleasurable sting of it. Knows that Even’s fully aware of how sensitive he is right there, and he pushes his chest out and chases the feeling, hips rolling a little back and forth with the movement.

“Do it again,” he whispers, and Even smiles against his jaw, moves to the other nipple and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger while his other hand grips on to Isak’s hip. Keeps him in place as he slides his cock back and forth in the tight channel between his legs. The tip nudges against Isak’s balls, a little harder with every thrust forward, and it adds to the sensation – odd but definitely pleasant, not near enough to get Isak off, but still satisfying.

But maybe the best part of it all is to hear Even breathe heavily in his ear as he moves; wet, low pants sparking heat down Isak’s spine and into his crotch. To feel Even’s body reacting to Isak’s, his grip on Isak’s chest and hip tightening with every push forward, cock leaking onto Isak’s skin and easing the slide. 

To see Even’s pale face in the mirror, the red blush on his neck against his black t-shirt, the smudged eyeliner, eyes dark and piercing and never leaving Isak’s as he kisses his ear, his neck, his jaw.

It’s mesmerizing, having Even’s eyes on him like this. Seeing how the sight of them together so obviously does it for Even as much as it does it for him.

After a while, Even’s hand leaves his hip and slides down the line of his groin. Slowly but surely, down beside his balls and in between his legs, hot and slippery, in and out a few times until Even’s hand is wet and shining. Isak bites his lip in expectation as Even’s fingers slide up along his balls, holds his breath as they stop at the base of his cock.

And then, finally, Even’s fingers move up and wrap around his whole length, keeping the grip firm from the start – none of the teasing, light brushes from before, only a tight channel for Isak to fuck into. His hips start moving from their own accord, an easy slide forward into Even’s big, warm hand and then back, Even’s cock jabbing against his balls a little harder. 

It’s perfect – so hot and so dirty, and Isak has to close his eyes, lean his head back on Even’s shoulder and let Even take his weight.

“Isak. Keep your eyes open,” Even breathes in his ear, pinching his nipple again. “Look at me.”

The silky, yet commanding tone to Even’s voice makes it impossible not to comply – and Isak feels something warm run through him with the knowledge that Even very well knows what this kind of talk does to him. How much Isak loves to hear his deep voice in his ear like this, to feel it vibrate against his neck, tingles rushing all the way down to the soles of his feet.

He meets Even’s eyes in the mirror, bites his lip and pushes forward again, sees the head of his own cock appear and disappear in Even’s hand. Sees Even mouth at the lobe of his ear and shudders from the sting of his sharp teeth on his skin.

When Even licks a long stripe along his neck, all the way from his collarbone and up to the angle of his jaw, Isak can’t hold in the deep moan that’s teared out of him, totally beside his will.

Suddenly, there’s a thud from somewhere above – probably someone jumping or dropping something, not because of the sound Isak just let out – but it’s enough for him to tense up. 

Enough for Even’s hand to suddenly fly up and cover his mouth.

For a moment, they both stand still, watching each other in the mirror. Eyes locked on each other’s, and Isak breathes heavily through his nose, Even’s hand big and warm on his mouth, fingers soft but firm against his chin. 

The party keeps going just as before up above, music, cheering, feet walking across the floor above their heads and away to the side. Nothing to indicate that someone’s on the stairs leading down to the basement, or standing right outside the door.

But they can’t be sure.

With a slow roll of his hips, Isak presses his thighs together and pushes back against Even once more. Makes Even give out a strangled whine against his neck and tighten the grip on his cock, and Isak moans against the hand covering his mouth, the sound oddly muffled and low inside his head. 

“Shit, Isak.” Even’s breath is wet and heavy in his ear, and Isak loves this. How Even gets so turned on by noticing how something he does turns _Isak_ on. Like a perpetual loop, something that gives and takes and makes Isak’s stomach clench in anticipation over where they’ll go next.

He stretches out his tongue and licks at the inside of Even’s hand, long fingers twitching in the mirror, the tips of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Isak’s cheek. He does it again, and Even gets it; slides his fingers over Isak’s cheek and to the corner of his mouth, black nails disappearing into Isak’s mouth in the mirror as Isak wraps his tongue around them and sucks them in. 

Sweat breaks out all over his back as Even presses his fingers down on his tongue, and he closes his lips around them, keeps them there and pushes his cock into Even’s hand once more. Lets Even give him pleasure with his hands alone while he uses Isak’s body to get himself off, working his cock faster and faster between Isak’s thighs, panting into his neck.

Isak squeezes his legs together as tight as he can, feels Even shudder against his back and gasp, and then, after a few short, hard thrusts, he can feel the skin between his legs turn warm and wet from Even’s release. Looks in the mirror to see Even close his eyes and bend his neck down, sharp teeth scraping the skin on Isak’s shoulder as he bites down lightly and moans.

Isak can feel the tingle of his own orgasm creep up from the small of his back from the slick, slippery feel of Even coming between his legs and fucking himself through it, holding on to Isak like a lifeline. 

At the sight of Even’s come running down between his thighs.

One last push, and Even moans at the angle of his jaw, the sound vibrating all the way down through Isak's chest and down to his knees, and he can’t hold back any longer.

With a sharp jab of his hips, he shoves himself into Even’s hand and off the edge; shivers rushing over his skin and throughout his limbs as he starts coming. He forces himself to keep his eyes open, watches the come spurt out of him and over the sink, over Even’s long fingers wrapped around his cock. 

His black nails covered in white.

“Holy shit,” Even whispers in his ear, voice breathless and fucked out, and Isak bites down on his fingers, sucks them in one last time before he releases them, aftershocks rippling through him as he leans back on Even's shoulder and breathes.

Even’s fingers trace his lips on the way out, leaving a wet trail across Isak's chin before he folds his arm around his chest and leans forward on the sink with the other, head falling limply on top of Isak’s shoulder. 

Isak turns his head and kisses his temple, tastes the salty sweat and remnants of foundation on the tip of his tongue, and smiles. “Fuck, baby. That was so hot.”

“I don’t think I can walk up the stairs,” Even admits, voice muffled against Isak’s shoulder. “Fuck.”

Isak laughs, delight spreading through him as Even laughs with him, a dazed, happy chuckle vibrating through his back. “We need to wash first anyway.”

“Oh my god. Yes.” Even looks up in the mirror with a giddy smile, eyeliner smeared down on his cheeks, eyes darting down to his own hand covered in come. “We didn’t think this through.”

“No. We didn’t.” Isak lifts his hand and runs it through Even’s hair, pulls at it to lift his face up so that he can kiss him properly on the mouth. A slow, sweet kiss, Even’s lips swollen and soft on his own, a pleased sigh escaping him as Isak runs his palm along his cheek. 

Even’s damp, sweaty t-shirt clings to Isak’s back, and Isak pulls at the arm of it with his fingers, making Even hum. “I _do_ like this outfit. A little.”

“Mm.” There’s a teasing laugh hidden in Even’s voice, and he nods, nose rubbing against Isak’s. “I kinda figured.”

Isak smiles on his lips. Ignores the sticky feeling between his legs, the chill of the sweat drying on his stomach, the ache in his thighs. 

They can stay here for a little while longer. Maybe they’ll go back to the party after they’ve washed up, join the people walking around up there, laughing and dancing and drinking. Or just go to their apartment, go to bed, look forward to a long, lazy morning tomorrow.

Either way, they’re home.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you (and especially YOU) liked this! I sure had a lot of fun writing it ;)  
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://irazor.tumblr.com)!


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